Prong's Last Stand
by Tinuwen
Summary: James Potter’s last moments… Hence the title.


Title: Prong's Last Stand  
Author: Tinuwen Lily/James  
Rating: PG  
Summary: James Potter's last moments… Hence the title. --;;  
Disclaimer: None of the original characters belong to me. Just a poor writer. TT  
Authors Note: This is a one shot fic. If it stinks horribly, I am very sorry. This is one of the first times I've written fanfics in this particular style. Please review!

I shove little Harry into Lily's arms, both of us afraid of what the explosion meant. Her lovely green eyes were also overcome with a fear that we both possessed. Peter had betrayed us. It had only been at least an hour since we had changed secret keepers. Torture would have taken longer, betrayals are short.

Wormtail had betrayed us. So much for true friendship.

"Go! I'll buy you and Harry as much time as I can! Save yourself and Harry!" I immediately order her, my heart in my throat as I had quickly realized that I could truly lose all that I loved dearly in this world. "I love you, Lily. And you, too, Harry," I whisper as I gently kiss both of them before pushing her towards the hidden entrance of a secret way out of the house. Something that Dumbledore had advised before we had gone into hiding.

My auburn-haired love nods grimly with a sad smile as tears began to roll down her face silently. "I love you, James… Stay alive for me… And Harry," she whispers before disappearing behind the hidden door. A lump rises in my throat as my eyes burn with the finality of what was going to happen.

A lone hooded figure enters the doorway to the dining room where my family had been moments before. I stand firm. I am not afraid to die. I cannot be. I had faced death many times before and escaped, though not without some scratches. I had faced Voldemort before.

And here he is again, standing before me.

"It is such a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Potter," he speaks in a cold, mocking voice. He had always toyed with his victims before killing them. Cruel, sadistic bastard… "But I come not to share pleasantries." Of course not. You came for my son because of that damned prophecy, to kill him before he could kill you.

"What do you want?" I ask just as icily as I grip my wand firmly, fully knowing what he did want. My body tenses as if ready to evade any curses or spells sent my way. "I have nothing that you would find of any worth," I add, glaring at the dark lord in front of me. He pulls down his hood, no longer encasing his face to the shadows.

But I wish that he hadn't.

His old face is hideous, scarred and obviously tainted with evil. A wicked smile is plastered upon his thin lips as malice glittered in his cold, always calculating eyes.

"Ah, but you do. I want your son."

"You can't have him," I immediately reply, my voice just as harsh as his eyes had become.

"I will not have any of this insubordination, Potter. Now tell me where he is and I will spare your life, for I am feeling quite generous this evening," he says in a persuasive but commanding voice.

"Never."

"Foolish boy," he hisses out in an uncaring voice. "But I shall give you one last chance. Where is your son?" he demands, beginning to rage at my obstinacy. I quickly draw out my wand just as the sorcerer raises his, both of us pointing at the other.

"I'd rather die than to sacrifice my son to you, you crazy sick fuck," I snarl and spit at his feet. His cruel eyes glitters with hot wrath at my words, his patience snapping like a delicate twig under a merciless heel.

"Then you will have what you wish, you insolent wretched mongrel! _Avada__ Kedavera!_"

Just as he speaks the last syllable of the killing curse, I manage to dodge the blast of bright green light that had spurts from his wand. The wall behind me catches on fire, spreading the hungry green flames.

"_Stupefy!_" I cry out just as I dive out of harm's way. Voldemort narrowly dodges the charm, the burst of red light escaping through the doorway, hitting the wall of the living room, and shattering it to dust.

"_Expelli-_

"_Reducto!_" I yell out, my wand still pointed at Voldemort as I gracefully rolled back onto my feet. I hope that it would hit the mad bastard before he had finished his charm. His robes catch on fire, which he easily and calmly extinguishes with another charm. A sinister, high laughter escapes his lips. My blood seems to run cold at the sound.

I hope Lilly and Harry are safely away by now…

"Not bad, Potter. Most would have been dead from the start," he spits out with a cruel smirk. "I find it a pity that you wasted your chance to play professional quidditch to become an Auror. You would have been easily one of the best players of the century."

"And when did you begin to care about my quidditch career?" I reply coldly, ready for another attack. The cruel smirk grows into an evil grin.

"I never did. _Crucio!_"

I attempt to quickly roll out of the way, but shooting, excruciating pains all over my body tell me that I had not been fast enough. The pain strikes the breath out of my body as the sensation of white-hot knives cutting into my flesh sears throughout all of my body. I grimace but I will not scream. I will not give him that pleasure.

Voldemort lets out a sigh and he sounds uninterested, which boils my blood as I'm here, fighting to exist, fighting to keep my family alive. I want to scream, to let out the pain, but I don't. The dark lord finally lets up with the pain and I gasp for air the pain was enough to knock my breath away. Hazy stars begin to form and lights shimmer where only blinding whiteness had conquered my vision. A sharp and high laughter pierces through the dimness caused by the intense agony.

I roll over to get back on my hands and knees, for I had been on my back and side alternatively during the curse. From the corner of my eye, I see a blast of green and I dodge it at the last moment. The searing sickly emerald light blasted a massive hole through the wall where the portrait of my wife and son had once been. The surrounding curtains catch fire as the other windows shatter. Some of the shards fly my way and cut my hands and cheek.

But apparently I'm not the only one hurt.

"Funny, I didn't know that the _great Voldemort_ could bleed just like a mortal," I spit out with pure venom. His cuts are slow to heal, but I can already see the skin patching itself back up. I feel bile rising in the back of my throat at the repulsive sight. Voldemort's eyes flare with wrath. I must have touched a nerve.

"How dare you blemish my name with your vile lips, Potter," he hisses as he points his wand towards me. But I'm ready for anything. "_Koron en'naur!"_

A massive fireball forms at the tip of his wand and flings it at me. I roll towards my right, narrowly dodging the huge ball of fire. I felt the passing heat as it singed my clothes and my hair. My limbs were starting to ache and tire as I rested for a moment behind the couch.

I knew in the bottom of my mind that I could run away, that I wasn't going to be the one to defeat Voldemort, but I needed to buy Lily and Harry all the time that I could. I can't let them down. I can't run away from this. I know I'm going to lose, but I can't escape unless I want to give up Harry and Lily.

"_Stupefy_!" I cry out suddenly as I rise up and duck from his hex. He mutters some odd words, stirring my mind to think that it was another complex curse. Just as he finishes, everything disappears, well, everything inside the house anyways. I raise my wand to send another hex his way but Voldemort beats me to it.

"_Avada Kedavera!"_

Flashes of Harry's birth, my wedding, Lily and Harry, Sirius, Remus, and my family dazzle my mind's eye as I see the blast of green coming towards me in slow motion. I can't seem to move, though I know that I should. Peter, you spineless jackass, why?

IloveyouLilyiloveyouHarrydon'tforgetmeiloveyouLilyandHarrybesafestaysafe—

The furious bright green blast hit James Potter who crumpled and fell back. The ruined and destroyed furniture returned and the house continued to burn. Voldemort couldn't help but let loose a slight smile. Here lay the one mortal man who had actually given him a run for his money and wasn't named Albus Dumbledore.

James's eyes stared up at the ceiling. Though unseeing, they appeared to be reminiscing, peaceful and unsettling at the same time. His wand was still gripped in his hand. Voldemort spat upon his body and stepped on his wand, breaking the magical stick under his heel.

Time to go find the girl and kill the baby who was destined to kill him.


End file.
